“Damn it, Vinnie,” I muttered as I sagged back in my chair. “It’s nothing that you need to be worried about. I won’t be a liability to you or the Society.”
“Owen,” Vincent said with a chuckle, “this isn’t about you being a liability. There is no one I trust more within the Society than you.”
“Then what is it about?” I asked. “I assure you, I can still do my job.”
I wanted to tell him Liam was nothing more than an inconvenience I could outgrow, but the truth was, I didn’t think I would. There was a good chance Liam would forever be thisthingthat plagued me. However, I could learn to live with that. I could learn to function without him. One challenging day didn’t mean my discipline was compromised.
“I’m not worried about your capacity within the Society, Owen. I’m worried about you.”
“Why the fuck are you worried about me? I’m fine.”
“You’re usually a better liar than that,” he mused with a small smirk. I opened my mouth, prepared to argue, but Vincent sighed before I could. His amusement faded as his head tilted slightly. That gaze of his softened as he considered me. “I worry about your happiness. I worry about all of my employees’ happiness, but we’re talking about you. I worry about your happiness. You’ve given so much of yourself for so long. To your work. To the Society. To me.
“You have built an entire life around taking care of everyone else. You anticipate needs before they’re spoken, and you make everyone you encounter feel seen. You have dedicated your life to the happiness of others. But while living to please others is anoble cause, at some point, it’s important that you learn to live for yourself as well.”
He fell silent as he got to his feet. My gaze followed him across the room to an old filing cabinet. The drawers weren’t locked, making it easy for him to pull open the second drawer.
“Did you know,” Vincent began, “that when I do orientations for Architects, I do an analysis similar to the ones I do for our clients?”
“I did not,” I replied. It didn’t surprise me in the least. He was nothing if not thorough.
“And do you know why I hired you?”
“For my ability to watch and adjust, all while simultaneously keeping the illusion of freedom over control.” I knew that one well.
“True,” he said. He removed a single file, flipped it open, and neatly folded it. When he was done, he held it out to me, and I accepted, curious. “Read what I put about your future retirement projection. Out loud, if you don’t mind, please.”
It was a strange request, but I did as he asked. I scanned the page until I found the section on retirement projection.
“Owen won’t retire because of burnout or dissatisfaction. He’ll retire because of attachment.” My gaze flicked up at him, but he merely nodded, indicating I should continue. “Correction: Owen will retire when someone makes him want more than the life he’s carefully constructed for himself.”
I faltered because there was no way in hell he could know this shit. I knew he was good at reading people, but this… well, this felt damn near prophetic.
“Keep reading,” he ordered as he tapped the top of the file.
“Additional note: there will be denial, pushback, and even anger.” That was it. That was all he wrote—though it was far more than I wanted to read. I handed it back to him. “Is this the part where you tell me you’re a goddamn wizard?”
“No, no. Although, that sounds far more exciting than the truth.” He chuckled. He closed the file and set it on his desk. “When you spend every breath trying to survive, you learn how to read people very well.”
I knew vague things about Vincent’s life—not enough to truly understand what he’d been through—but I knew his life hadn’t been easy.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’ve lived my life, and I’m happy with what I’ve become,” Vincent told me. “And it’s time for you to do the same. I know you. I know how you work. I know how you prepare and engage your clients. I know how you conduct yourself. And I’d be a fool not to see how you changed all of that for Liam.”
Arguing with him and denying it seemed futile, considering what he’d just had me read aloud. All we’d end up doing was dancing in circles until one of us tired out, and I knew it wouldn’t be him.
“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” I whispered.
“Of course you didn’t,” he replied. “The man who wants to be wanted crosses paths with the man who has never wanted. It was bound to happen.”
“When you put it that way,” I grumbled.
“You deserve happiness, my friend.”
“The problem is that I thought I was happy.”
“The best liars are the ones who can convince even themselves,” he commented. Rounding the desk, he dropped back in his chair, leaning back comfortably while his gaze never left mine. “And I don’t mean that as an insult. You’re practiced in creating illusions for others. It’s no wonder you convinced yourself you were happy.”
